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Once upon a time when I was three, maybe four years old, I needed to find a restroom. And fast. With my older siblings and cousin in tow, I was sure one of them would help me find one in or close to the Marina Del Rey drugstore we were seemingly loitering in. While my family were cruising the magazine aisle, there was me, hands between my legs, desperation on my face, hobbling around begging for someone to take me bathroom. “I need to go now!” I cried (though more likely, whined). “If you need to go so bad, just go right here!” Grayson exasperatedly replied. Always one for a dare (at that age) and a bit of spite, I then lifted my dress, pulled down my panties, squatted, and relieved myself in front of, what I could only imagine in my wildest tot fantasies, Tiger Beat Magazine. I believe this was one defining moment that I will carry on forever. Little did I know then that my lifelong passion for public restrooms had begun.

In the days, weeks, months to come, I will try to literate the bathrooms I’ve visited as best I can, giving the good, the bad and yes, the ugly. If you know of any public restrooms worthy of a visit, let me know. gfork loves a good loo.